


Leaving Tonight

by giraffles



Series: Fight Like A Girl [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Fem!Steve, Sad times, fem!AU, fem!Bucky, my heart will not be ready for civil war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4738604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giraffles/pseuds/giraffles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had decided that she was done running.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaving Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> A ficlet I wrote last semester but never got around to typing up. Angsty ramblings yeeeeee. 
> 
> More lesbians fOR EVERYONE

She had decided that she was done running. She left a trail, purposeful and bold, that couldn’t possibly be missed. There was an abandoned warehouse in a decrepit lot covered in weeds and a film of dust. She would wait here.

It hadn’t been easy on her own. There were no handlers to direct her every move, and no safe haven to return to. Not that she would have gone back. But she had nothing but herself and her training. She stole what she needed to blend in. She avoided people whenever possible. She survived.

The Captain and the man with the wings had been trailing her from the start. She wasn’t ready to face them, to face the reality of herself. The memories where still hazy; jumbled, just out of reach. Sometimes a piece would come back in sharp relief, thrusting her into a dizzying sense of vertigo and disconnect, forcing her to relive a life that didn’t feel like her own. She had thought that if maybe she got away, that if she kept running, she would get far enough to be able to regroup. To figure things out on her own. She was self-sufficient.

Yet she soon realized that she couldn’t do it alone. There were too many unknowns, and what she could dredge up from her mind was too fragmented to make sense of. This wasn’t her world. She didn’t belong here. So, with her newfound agency, she made her choice.

There was also the connection to her former target that she couldn’t deny. She didn’t understand it, and part of her didn’t want to. There was a stronger desire, a kind of lonely longing that ate at her waking moments, that finally pushed her forward. She wanted to know why someone would have thrown down their life in an attempt to reconnect with her. The lack of self-preservation the Captain had displayed had startled her, and even now it was hard to process. She wanted answers, not fabricated histories on display in museums, but something solid and real. Something she could touch.

The sun was setting. The Soldier pushed old crates and a broken table into a barrier. Her trail could attract others, maybe some who would like to take her back. She might be a weapon, but she wasn’t _their_ weapon any longer. She would be prepared if the wrong people showed up. She didn’t plan on sleeping, both for safety and to avoid the dreams that confused her, but pulled a ratty blanket around her anyway. Now, she waited. It might take a week, or months, but that was okay. There was a sense of confidence connected to the Captain. She would find her, just as she intended.

 

. . .

 

Not long after dawn she snapped awake, not remembering when she had dozed off. Her fighting instinct was in overdrive, muscles tense, with one hand on a knife. Someone was outside. Unmoving, she listened to their approach.

They were quiet, careful. Familiar. It took an enormous amount of effort to let go of the blade and not escape out a back window. She had to get answers. She needed to see it through.

The door on the other side of the warehouse creaked open. Pale sunlight slid around the frame and two shadows peeked in. Cautiously they entered, not seeing her form crouching behind the broken boxes. She took a steadying breath and stood.

The pair jumped when they saw her. The Captain almost said something, but it never came out. Where her eyes always that blue? The man with the wings held back, but she had seen him in action, and knew there was a gun under his coat. She wasn’t sure if he’d use it, though.

Bucky. The name caused her to flinch. It sounded wrong with it was directed at her. That wasn’t her name. She didn’t _deserve_ that name.

 

It’s okay.

 

No, none of this was okay. Broken, fucked up, hopeless.

 

Bucky, it’s okay.

 

Why did she keep saying that?

 

The Captain made to approach her and she almost bolted past them to freedom outside. Almost. She was shaking and she didn’t know why.

 

It’s okay, it’s okay.

 

Her hands where suddenly in the Captain’s, who was looking at her so earnestly that she couldn’t meet that gaze, unable to stand that acceptance.

 

I’m here.

 

Yes, she was here. The Soldier had led her to this point. The trembling in her limbs got worse and suddenly she couldn’t see past an onslaught of unexplainable tears. She didn’t cry. _Didn’t_.

 

I’m so sorry. But I’m here. It’s okay.

 

She shook her head but she couldn’t say no. She couldn’t step away from the warm embrace pulling her in.

 

I’ve got you.

 

Yes. She’d always had her. She’d always have her now. The Captain might just be another cage; but this one she had walked into willingly. She’d found her and she’d broken. She was trusting her, to find the shards and help her fit them back together.

The Soldier never looked back.


End file.
